The Leviathan Rises
by SamoaCookie
Summary: Corvo's nightmares won't stop. Every night he dreams of Dunwall's devistation, and the chilling roars of a monster. At first he dismisses it as merely bad dreams, but a visit from The Outsider, may change his mind.


THE LEVIATHAN RISES

** I Do not own Dishonored. Bethesda does.**

Prologue

The Arctic, one of the harshest and rugged environments on planet earth; a frozen desolate land where the distant sun shines near constantly in the summer time. A place so alien and yet stunningly beautiful in its own right. If one were to brave the journey to this unforgiving world completely uninhabited by people, you would have to brave bone chilling winds, steely gray waves, treacherous pack ice that could easily strand a ship for months if not years, and subzero temperatures that could kill you within a matter of minutes.

Indeed to sustain life in the Arctic is impossible. Impossible yet totally doable, it is here that flightless penguin flocks hunt for fish in the frigid waters and raise their young. It is here many large seabirds lounge about the rocky shores, and seals and horkers lay about without a care in the world. Also with the change in season bring the annual whale migration, and with the whales...comes the whalers and their great steel ships.

The ten year old whaling ship the 'S.S. Antoinette' led by sixty year old Captain Anthony Harric, cut her way through the layers of ocean ice, leaving behind a jagged path of clear water in its wake. Below deck, the crew heard the groaning of aging metal as it battered and scraped against natures obstacles. None of the crew were worried though for the old ship was tough and would see them through another campaign without fail.

Located in the bridge room, Captain Harric carefully observed the ships progress with his navigator Percy Helmms, studying blips on the radar, whiling relaying longitude and latitude on a seachart that showed the arctic circle. Harric was your stereotypical sea captain it seems. He had a white beard, a weathered wrinkled face, with hawkish brown eyes. Located on the communications bridge just below from where the captain stood, the Antoinette's cheif communications officier Mr. Packard sat at his station twisting dials and switching channels trying to find the clearest signal to listen for the closet pod of whales. At the ripe old age of 70, the grizzled old sea dog had told Harric this would be his last campaign. He'd promised his wife Martha that the two of them would retire and live out the rest of their winter years in the sunny island of Serkonos. But that wouldn't be until the end of the season, when all the ships would return to Gristol, and the city of Dunwall. With a final flick of his gnarled hand, the plaintive and sorrowful sound of whale songs came in loud and clear. Turning in the worn brown swivel chair, Mr. Packard hollered up to Helmms "Ahoy up there Helmms, I'm picking up some whales on the hydrophone, shant be too far off until we spot the pod!"

"Aye, I got some big indications on the monitar Cap'n, longitude 75 degrees, latitude 90 degrees " said Percy.

"Excellent" Anthony smiled before turning back to his all business mood "Mr. Packard, tell all hands to man their stations, get the harpoon guns loaded and ready!"

Flipping the switch for the pa system, Mr. Packard pulled the mic closer to him "_Attention all personelle, all hands are to report to their respective stations immediately. Repeat, all hands to stations_" they would have to work quickly_. _

In an instant the Antoinette came alive with whalers dashing to and thro, strapping on their masks and black colored long coats. Up on the main deck, deck hands loaded wicked looking harpoons into large guns bolted securely to the slippery metal deck. While the slip way operators stood by and ready to haul aboard their catch. It was time to slaughter some water dwelling mammals! High above the twilight sky shimmered with diamond stars against a greyist blue hue.

Percy picked up the intercom and contacted the lookout Franklin Jacques "Talk to me Jacques, spot any whales up there?"

"_Aye aye Mr. Helmms!_" Franks voice crackled through the worn receiver "_I see rippling in the slush directly off the bow, I've never seen a pod so huge! There must be fifty whales out there, no signs of breaching yet_".

"Good work sailer, keep a keen out now".

_"Aye sir!_" the com clicked, ending communication.

"Whale sighting confirmed Cap'n Harric" the navigator said to Anthony.

"Procede with capture then" he ordered.

Old Mr. Packard was still listening on the hydrophone when it happened; the first sign in the events to come. At first, the old sailor thought there was a bug in the system, but everything seemed to be working perfectly. The red button would've flashed if there was a problem...strange..."Cap'n Harric, the whales stopped singing sir".

Captain Harric looked perplexed "What? They've never done that before...are you sure there isn't just a problem with the hydrophone?" why would the whales suddenly stop singing all of a sudden? They always sang.

"No Cap'n, all systems check out fine on my end" Mr. Packard frowned.

Just then, Jacques voice buzzed through the intercom "_CAPTAIN HARRIC! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! I-IT'S A SEA MONSTER!"_

"W-what..." the captain gaped, his weather beaten face was quickly drained of it's color.

Percy Helmms snatched up the walkie talkie and shouted "WHAT IN THE VOID ARE YOU SPOUTING FRANKLIN!? SEA MONSTERS AREN'T REAL!?" a thundering impact struck the Antoinette, causing everyone aboard to stumble about to stay upright.

"What did we hit?!" Anthony demanded.

Percy groaned and rose to his knees, what the monitor showed made his blood run cold. A large blip bigger than any whale blip, beeped ominously as it slowly circled the ship. Another steel shattering blow battered the vessel, sending the men reeling once again.

"_Captain the hull is taking on water!_" were a engineer's frantic response.

"Shit! Seal those leaks, whatever you do!" Harric commanded.

"_Captain...you better come see this_..." Jacques murmured, breathless with awe and fright.

The old sea dog wasted no time, dashing away from his position with Percy hot on his heels, Harric dodged panicking crewmen and equipment; wrenching open the metalic door to the deck what awaited them was a scene out of an old ink scratch stetch.

"By the Void...".

The leviathan, an ancient creature only the Strictures remember; had finally awoken.


End file.
